Let me be, let me be
by FeatherInTheOcean
Summary: She just knows she hasn't felt this passionate about anything in a long time. No matter the passion is plain hatred for a certain red-head. As they say, there's a mere hairline difference between hate and...love? He just hopes to turn it around. [TatsuRen hate-story. IchiRuki hints. Later-ish.]
1. Chapter 1

**Dislaimer:** I don't own Bleach. If I did, I wouldn't create amazing characters like Tatsuki and then treat them like shit. Really. She deserves better.

A/N: this thing—I took it down from my old account and I'm posting it here with a bit of editing here and there.

This is about how Tatsuki and Renji meet for the first time—in my head, of course. 'cause I ship them real hard and _both_ of them deserve so, so much better. I guess, it's more about just Tatsuki though. In that view, this chapter is also kinda like a standalone—just a how-they-met one-shot (although more chapters will follow).

* * *

Punch

She walks past the school building. Past the convenience store. Past the playground. Past the dojo. Everything goes in a blur before she arrives at the fork in the road. Her feet freeze there. She takes a deep breath. She fidgets. Then she turns around and walks back past the dojo. Past the playground. Past the convenience store. And turns left. Walking another mile or two extra won't hurt. At least not as much as walking past _his_ house would.

Arisawa Tatsuki isn't the kind of person to really hold onto things like that.

No.

But every time she walks past his house… she feels this helplessness, this unbearable hollowness inside of her. It almost makes her want to walk up to the door, crash into his place and beat the guy up black and blue. He's a moron after all.

But really… _every_ freakin' time she walks past that house… all she can do is clench her fists and sprint past it as fast as she can. All she does is fight back the tears that are so lost on a person like him.

Kurosaki Ichigo… that guy is just so fucking clueless about how they feel. Mizuiro… Keigo… _her_. She almost, almost wishes he knew how she feels about him. But it's always just been that—an _almost_.

Does he not remember several of those times when she saved his ass from those class bullies in elementary school? Or those times when she'd find him sitting by the riverbank, alone, dwarfed in the shadows cast by that setting sun. She admits she couldn't do much to help back then. But at least she was _there._ And she has to admit she can't even do much to help him now. But is it fair that he won't even let her _be_ there for him now?

She's walking past the immaculately maintained house of the Ishidas. Past the store where Chad works. Past the apartment building where Orihime lives.

Ishida… who grew from being awkwardly detached to coldly distant. Not that he was ever much of a friend.

Chad… who went from being just the-quiet-guy-in-the-classroom to the silent-presence-with-gravity. Not that _she_ gravitates around him much.

Orihime… who somewhere along the line stopped being her 'best' friend. And that never even needed many excuses.

There's only so much you can do when people stop depending on you. For good or bad—who really knows.

But it's almost funny how easy it is for people to find replacements for you in their lives. Almost as if you never really mattered. Almost as if you were never considered to be counted upon. Almost as if you were nothing more than… _a hindrance_ , she whispers to herself.

She probably doesn't remember the reason why she let her hair grow out. She probably doesn't remember those times they'd spent together eating cuisines with impossible ingredients.

She can protect herself now… she has even protected _her_. And there are so many other people she has who she can depend on after all this time. True, she can't do much to help them now. But is it really fair that they won't even acknowledge her anymore?

Has she not seen him suffer on the inside, powerless for those seventeen months? He, of all people, should know… how it feels to be left out of the loop. How it feels to be so powerless. How it feels to not be depended upon.

He sure must remember that one last match they had when he finally beat her. Back then they were—what—ten or eleven? Doesn't he really miss the 'chan' he stopped using after that?

He wanted to get stronger—and he did.

She wanted to get stronger too—but fate was never really reasonable.

Kurosaki Ichigo… he doesn't know what they must feel like… but she almost, _almost_ wishes he knew how she felt about him.

She stops in her tracks. And turns around again. Maybe it's time she stopped taking that roundabout way. Maybe it's time she faced it. Gathered herself up and walked right past his house. And not look back. And not resent the fact that she's always been on the other side of the line. Just a dash of destiny and she was erased. Blurred into a background and not required anymore.

Only, it's so, so hard to admit it. To get on and be content with all she is, all she has. And she almost, almost wishes he knew how she felt about him.

No.

Not today.

She turns back again. It's okay. For one more day, she'll take the longer way back home. For just _one_ more day, she'll avoid walking past that house.

And she runs straight into a tall red-head with freakish tattoos and crashes to the ground on her butt. The guy offers a hand up. He'd so be a delinquent… only if she didn't know what that black kimono meant. Only, if it were freakin' normal to roam around like that with a crazy looking katana.

She accepts the help and grabs his hand to stand up. The next thing _he_ knows, he's on the ground with a jaw throbbing with pain. The spikey haired girl's eyes are smoldering with hate. It's all she can do to keep herself from shaking. The punch really hit so hard, her fist feels bruised. Clenched so, so tight, the knuckles are white with lack of circulation.

And she'd so like to beat _this_ guy black and blue.

Because _they_ are what made him what he is today. _They_ are responsible for everything that's wrong with her life today. _They_ took it all away from her.

And it's the first time that she's really decided that it's okay if he doesn't know how she feels about him. He doesn't need to. She's gonna walk right past Kurosaki's house and not give a shit about it. Certainly. This isn't an _almost_.

Only… it's not that easy to just walk away after punching a delinquent red-head with a crazy katana…

* * *

A/N: I wrote this while listening to "Goodbye my almost lover" by A Fine Frenzy. And this fic still completely doesn't make sense I don't know why I wrote something so random (I sobbed about it in a corner later)

So. Um. I plan on completing this fic this time. The next three chapters were already up there so all I need to do is edit and put them up here. I guess they'll come in quick succession.

Thank you for reading!

Reviews will be much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. If I did, there'd be canon pairs—a _lot_ of them.

A/N: This previously-angsty-one-shot got converted to a full-fledged TatsuRen hate-story. I had an abstract idea as to their encounter so yeah, this was the product. It's just coming in absolutely random tidbits.

* * *

Insane

"What the hell, crazy woman?" the red-head twists her arm behind her back. He wouldn't just let her walk away after being punched like that. Forget humiliation. Abarai Renji has always been the curious kind. Besides, it's been quite a while since he's been punched like _that_. Sure, it hurt like bitch. Last he remembers, it was Rukia—that midget sure is a monster—who punched him this hard. Oh, Renji can so make people mad. But, wow, this time it didn't even take effort.

"Let go of me," the girl growls, trying to wriggle out of his hold. Maybe one punch wasn't enough to vent out the frustration she's been keeping bottled up for so long. But that just made her decide things. And now, she's really so damned _eager_ to walk past the Kurosaki house. If only the delinquent, red-haired, tattoo-freak, shinigami scum would take his _filthy_ hands off of her.

"You don't just crash into random strangers and _punch_ them when they offer you help," he says, twisting her arm just a bit harder. Not that he enjoys bullying people. But he just doesn't understand what to make of this kind of bizarre human behavior. "Last I checked, that's downright rude."

"What _do_ you want?" oh, that's a stupid question indeed. After all that they _have_ taken away, there isn't much they should be needing, is there? And he calls _her_ rude. Hypocrite. That's the kind of company Ichigo's been with… no wonder he's become one of them. But she _has_ decided… she isn't giving a damn anymore. Now, if only the monkey-face would let her _go_.

"What do _I_ want?" he grimaces. Women in the world of the living are strange creatures. Really. Not that he knows many. There's one he knows… who makes almost impossible food—if you _can_ call it food at all—with god-knows-what ingredients. Now, there is this one, who punches random guys—and punches them real _hard_ —and tries to walk away, nonchalant. It's settled then, he _really_ doesn't need to know more than two. Now, what he wants is something very simple—not just in human terms. "An apology maybe…?"

"Forget it," she says, voice steady. Though there's so much of anger seeping in in her acid voice. So much malice. She almost didn't know it existed there. And she's so, so bitter… it's as if she's a different person altogether. Almost can't recognize her own self. "I will _never_ forgive you Shinigami scum."

"What the… _I_ ain't apologizing, woman. I'm asking for _your_ apology," uh-huh, there's been an apparent misunderstanding with the words. But then—oh… Renji has always been a little slow on the uptake… but this has to be complete foolishness. He's been _talking_ to a _human_ girl, not even realizing the fact. "You—you can see me…"

"News flash!" she mutters, tugging at her arm but he's still gotten such a freakin' tight grip on her, it's almost starting to hurt.

"I—I mean… you can see me and… wait you know about shinigami?" he wonders if his brain's rusting. So, so slow on the uptake. "How…?"

"Just my luck I happen to know a certain strawberry," she rolls her eyes. She didn't really need to tell him. But the guy looks so clueless, she almost feels sorry for directing all her hate on him. _Almost_.

"O-oh…" he stares at her. Yes, now he realizes why she looked kind of familiar. He's seen this girl around with Ichigo and Orihime. She goes to the same school. It's almost like that one punch has rather brought her out of that background he associated with Ichigo and his pack of unusual friends. So… Renji has only been to their school like—what—once or twice…? Now, he's an expert when it comes to making people mad… but he has to think back on what he could have possibly done to piss this midget off. There isn't any particular incident he can place her with. Heck, he doesn't even remember her name— "Kurokawa… Ayuzawa?"

She just about wants to punch him again but then there is this deafening roar that completely throws them off. And then the monster materializes ten feet away. One of those kinds that she's seen them fight once in a while. Oh, she hates those ugly creatures.

"Hold on," the red head hauls her up easily with one arm. The revenge for the punch could come later. He'd just completely forgotten about why he'd been there in the first place. The hollow alert. Apparently Ichigo and Rukia had been quite busy. So the responsibility falls on him. Right. Need to take care of the hollow first.

"Put me down, you…" she struggles, throwing him off-balance and landing on her knees.

"Wait, you need to get away from here," he shouts. The girl just hardly throws him a glance. So defiant. So, so freakin' stubborn. Renji has to admit, if anything, she must be as good at getting onto people's nerves as he is. Ichigo sure has some tough luck. "You don't know those creatures…"

"Sure I do," she says, nonchalantly. She wouldn't really want to appear stupid. And before the guy can reach out, she's already launched herself at the hollow, throwing all the kicks and punches that she can. That frustration that she's let build inside for so long. Great time to get rid of it. The red-head just gapes with open mouth as she climbs up and up, hitting the hollow with all the power. If she were a shinigami, he could swear Sui Feng taichou would love her. And her punches must hurt like bitch. Because the monster is howling and getting more agitated by the minute.

She's just almost exhausted all her punches on the ivory-hard mask of the hollow, she's sure she's gonna hit the sidewalk—hard—as it flings her off like a fly that's been persistently annoying for a while.

Only, the impact she's bracing herself for never comes. The red-head catches her clean against his chest as his other hand swings the zanpakutou—now extended in its crazy jagged shape—and slashes the hollow in half.

"Has anyone ever told you…" he says as they watch it crumble to dust and fade, "… that you're insane?"

Tatsuki could grunt, punch him again, or just walk away—each of which sound like equally good options. The last thing she wants right now is a lecture on how stupid that was. Sure, she's insane. Ichigo must tell her that. Orihime must tell her that. It was just so hard to stand there doing nothing after seeing that monster. The whole episode of Orihime protecting her flashed by and Tatsuki has decided she's so, so _done_ with that. Done with being so incapable. Done with being the protected one all the time. Nonetheless, they must say she's insane.

Only, when she actually looks at him, the shinigami is grinning ear-to-ear as if he's seen, like, the most amusing show this world had to offer. So, she guesses there isn't any lecture about her being careless coming straight out of _that_ mouth. She decidedly likes insane better. Very well, she can do insane.

"Or you could just say… I'm strong," she throws a casual punch but the element of surprise must not be on her side any longer. Or maybe the red-head just has good instincts because he dodges it without wasting a wink.

"Yeah, well…" he grins. Strong. That's one thing Abarai Renji respects. Well, some habits from the eleventh division just always remain with you. Strong can do. That settles it then. He's been so, so bored cooped up in that tiny room of Ichigo's and killing hollows for any fun. Yep, he decides strong can do. "Care to demonstrate?"

Tatsuki has to admit she's never been so impressed by anyone cracking his knuckles at her. Only, it's the middle of a street and he's a goddamned shinigami. Not to mention, she just barely has enough energy to take the shortest way back home.

"Sure," she says and there's this glint in her eyes that completely does him in. He doesn't know why or what it is that she has against shinigami… but she must really, _really_ hate his race so much. Which means he better prepare for it or he's going to get his ass kicked—and kicked real hard. "Come find me at the dojo when you want."

"Right," he smirks as the spikey-haired girl starts walking away, not once looking back at him.

"The name's Arisawa, by the way. Arisawa Tatsuki,"

"Abarai Renji."

"Right."

"Insane," they mutter under their breaths as they walk away in opposite directions, not sparing another glance.

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A/N: well, that was more conversation than I'd really expected. I'm wondering if Tatsuki is a bit OOC here—what with all that angst and all. I guess, that's my own frustration for her character coming out.

In any case, yay to my first multi-chapter TatsuRen! It's been long overdue, considering I ship these two so hard. And I love hate-stories.

Well, anyway, thank you for reading.

Please leave a review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Wish I did though.**

* * *

Sparring

Hesitant shuffling of feet. He paces in front of the dojo entrance. Walks up, clears his throat and raises his knuckles to knock but doesn't. A moment of hesitation. He steps back, scratches the back of his head. Steps back further. A sigh. Again walking up to the door. Again a hesitant look in the eyes. This time, he clenches his fist, curses under his breath and decides to head back to Ichigo's. Unaware of a pair of large brown eyes that have been watching him with a curious interest from the window, he casts one uncertain glance at the dojo again and sighs, shaking his head.

Two more steps away from the building he'd spent half an hour searching for, he hears the door thrown open with a bang. Turning around, he finds her standing in the middle with a mirthless smirk on her face. In that spotless white uniform, she does look something. It kind of emphasizes her aura of power more than the Karakura High uniform does.

"Looking for someone, Abarai?" she asks in a monotone, trying to sound uninterested while in fact she'd be embarrassed to admit to have caught herself thinking of a certain red-head more than once.

"Well, I…" he starts, then pauses to clear his throat to buy time for a less-than-sheepish response. "I was just passing by…"

"Come on in," she steps back from the door and gestures him to follow her.

The dojo is even more impressive than it looks from the outside. He watches her lithe walk as she goes over to a pair of kids and gently corrects their postures before turning back to him.

"So…" she says, looking around. "Care for a little spar?"

The question doesn't really sound odd. If she'd invited him in a coffee shop, she would have offered coffee but he's rather unfortunate in that sense to have been invited into a dojo. Whatever was he expecting.

"Sure," he shrugs. "A little test of strength."

"Don't take me all that lightly," she smirks. The smirk that always suits her more and appears more natural than a genuine smile would. That _smirk_ is genuine.

"I wouldn't," he says, stretching himself a little and then purposely cracking his knuckles with a huge grin on his face. "Just saying I'm stronger."

"Well, try me," she raises an eyebrow in challenge.

And if taken out of context, it could probably have been the most romantic dialogue he's had in his life except both are just bristling with an intent to smash each other in and the glint in her eyes especially has a little—just a tiny little—murderous look. Whichever way one might see it, they would just sound so wrong.

Right off the bat, she starts with all she has. Punches and kicks come in full force. After a minute of effective blocking and analyzing just how strong she is, the match sets in smooth. She hits, he blocks. But he doesn't hit her back. Still unsure if he really should. She senses the hesitation promptly. Fighting instincts sharpened over years of training. Strategy is simple. She throws all the punches and kicks in where it's hard to block without hurting her. And that's where he loses.

Down on the ground one last time, he coughs and grins simultaneously.

"You win," he says brushing his clothes off. "I'll treat you to takoyaki some time."

"I'd rather you didn't," she says, stretching in an impossible posture before she straightens and they bow to each other for a good match.

"Then I'll owe you one," he says.

"I have something on mind," she says. "But I'm not sure you could do that."

"As if!" he shoots back, a little furious at being underestimated. "Your win. Ask for whatever you like."

"Well, then…" she flashes her white, white teeth.

Takoyaki was easier. Far easier than what she asks for. He tells her she must be crazy and she just smirks in return. This promise is gonna land them both in some serious shit if he has to keep it. But with Arisawa, what's the meaning of going back.

x-x-x

"Right now?" Tatsuki looks at the late night intruder at her window adjusting her t-shirt. If he'd so recklessly barged in a second or two ago, he would've gone down the two floors with a flower vase she would've chugged into his face. He should know better than to show up at a girl's window and open it without so much as a knock.

Fresh out of the shower, hair dripping wet, her scowling face makes him realize his impolite intrusion a little too late. Half a second early and he might've been dead all over again. The alert goes off again and he holds his device display up to her face. Delay is not an option.

" _Right now_ ," he asserts.

"Fine," she mutters, hurriedly throwing off her towel and looking over at the mirror just a fraction of second before deciding a t-shirt and shorts isn't that weird a choice for an outside adventure.

Taking two treads at once down the stairs, blurting out incoherent excuses, pulling on the worn out sneakers, she hits the sidewalk in a sprint in seconds. Her long slender legs go thud-thud-thud, strong calf muscles expanding and retracting rhythmically. In human terms, her speed is impressive. He couldn't compete with her. But he's a shinigami. And even though his shunpo isn't half as impressive as his ice-head taichou, it's gotta be at least five times over her current speed.

Without a warning, he hauls her up with one arm hooked around her waist and before she can gain enough sense to protest, his flash-step has already led them to the spot.

And sure enough, there's a hollow roaring, itching to destroy.

"Remember, Arisawa," he warns one last time. "Anybody finds out about this and we're both dead."

"Nobody will," she nods before they launch themselves at the beast.

This one is her prey. Not much powerful a hollow. One swing from his zanpakutou would be enough but he plays around, slashing it here and there, letting her fists do the little frustrating talk. If his observations had been slightly doubtful, now he's sure the second division in Seireitei is _meant_ for her. The hollow isn't just annoyed but positively _howling_ in furor. The punches and kicks are at least half as impressive as Sui Feng taichou's. There is just one moment of terror when he thinks she hasn't noticed the desperate hollow's hand reach out from behind her but she catches it in the nick of a second and instinctively raises her hand, palm out. A pure white beam of light shoots out, destroying the hollow's limb before Renji decides it's time to finish up the job and he dispatches the beast to the other realm with one clean swing of sword.

"How—how'd you do that?" he asks, standing over her crouched form breathing hard.

"That?" she raises her palm and stares at it in amazement, willing the miracle again but it doesn't happen. "What _was_ that? Some superpower beam…"

"That was kidou," he explains. "Art of destruction number four, byakurai. White lightning. But how did _you_ do it?"

"I'm not sure…" she says, standing up and dusting her clothes. "It just happened."

Shinigami do affect the reiryoku of humans around. That's one of the drawbacks of hanging out with them. Something forbidden. But he shrugs. He can enjoy this for just a little while longer. Not to say that he does not have that deep respect for the laws of Soul Society. But she just forces it out of him like he doesn't have a choice. Maybe he can finally begin to understand Rukia's reasons now.

"Well, anyway," he says. "I'll walk you back home."

With what she just did, there's no real threat to her walking back alone even this late in the night. But she doesn't protest. He wouldn't have insisted. On the way back he explains her about reiatsu and how he's probably affecting her. And about kidou and hakudo and all the shinigami gibberish she wouldn't have cared about just an hour ago. She's more amazed at her hadou outburst than she would've been if it were some weird superhero phenomenon. That kind of outrageous stuff is better remaining in comics.

He stays at the gate and watches her go up the two steps and open the door to her house. Something inside of him feels awkward and compelled to say _some_ thing before she shuts him out.

"Er, Arisawa…" he hesitates, but she turns around instantly as if she'd been waiting for this. "What're you doing tomorrow?"

"Not tomorrow, Abarai," she shakes her head, considering this another invitation to a sparring session. "I don't attend the dojo on Sundays."

"Then maybe," he scratches the back of his head flashing an uncertain grin. "… we could grab that takoyaki tomorrow…"

"If the offer still stands…" she grins, slightly cocking her head to a side. "Sure."

"Well then," he says, waving. "See ya."

"Yeah," she says, closing the door.

He sighs. Walking back to Urahara Shoten, he wonders if he should stop freeloading and actually work for some cash for once. He's got to pay for the takoyaki after all.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay so the Bleach wiki says Tatsuki's eyes are blue. But they appear brown to me so I'll keep it brown.**

 **So writing TatsuRen actually makes me feel so good on the inside I'm wondering why I gave up on it. The story's still so** _ **there**_ **in my head I'm just hoping I can update faster and finish this.**

 **Thank you for reading.**

 **Please leave a review.**


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